I've enjoyed Frenchy's poems so much, I thought since this Forum seems to have hit a lull, I might share one that I wrote several years ago when my 17 year old son left home (and the "Truth") - and broke my heart.
He is a very bright and introspective young man, a “poet” heavily into Dylan, Lennon, and all those anti-establishment heroes of – oddly enough – MY generation.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Minstrel Song
Where are you now, O Minstrel Son -
Child lost in the Wisdom of Youth?
Is there yet a hint of your presence
Still lingering within that Dylan-esque spirit?
Poet, Philosopher, Tunesmith -
Born a generation too late;
Reincarnate 60’s child -
A “rock” and an “island.”
Cuddle with me again just once -
Babble meaningless childwords in my ear;
Savor the joys of an innocent babe a while longer
Before you go off to slay Life’s Dragons -
(They will await you -
They know you are coming.)
Whisper to me once again the song of a firstborn’s love before you go;
Remember kindly the yesterdays of your youth,
They too had meaning -
Your poet’s heart is shaped of those who have touched you
Throughout your journey to this unknown destination.
The love of a firstborn I have reserved for you alone;
Only you can lay claim to it.
Never doubt its power;
It can overcome all obstacles, however great they may be.
It cannot be quenched even midst the ravages of fire and drought
It awaits you - knowing your growth will come full circle.
Then your minstrel song will be complete.
* * * * * * * * * * *
As a footnote, I might add that he has matured considerably and now, some 6 years later, we see him often and have fallen into a very comfortable relationship. He is publishing a poetry magazine in a college town about 100 miles from here, is not one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and has developed into a very fine young man.